


Connie Swap Episode 30: Colored Perception

by br42, BurdenKing, MjStudioArts



Series: Connie Swap [30]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Art, Deaf, Deaf Character, Drama, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Momswap, Pictures, Romance, Slice of Life, Steven Universe AU, connverse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-07 01:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br42/pseuds/br42, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurdenKing/pseuds/BurdenKing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MjStudioArts/pseuds/MjStudioArts
Summary: Connie's newest power has huge implications, so much so that she'll need her Destiny Partner to help her contemplate and investigate them. Bismuth, meanwhile, is attempting to help Peridot out of her funk, an activity the Beach House may not survive intact.





	1. Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the break between Ep29 and Ep30 the wonderful [NeonJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonJohn/pseuds/NeonJohn) drew the following comic. All of us on the Team absolutely loved it and have embraced it as canon, and it actually is relevant to the chapter you're about to read. So check it out, both because it's hilarious and because it's plot-relevant. It takes place during the Ep29 denouement.

Connie sat on her dad's couch --unfolded, it was also her bed these days-- and stared at the open book in her hands.

To say she was reading it would be a lie. Oh, her eyes traveled across the page, letters assembled into words assembled into sentences, but meaning passed through her mind and scattered like light through a prism.

She couldn't concentrate. She was distracted. No, she was worse than distracted. She was _twitterpated_.

She sighed and laid the book across her lap, looking out the window. A corner of her worried this was very much clichéd pining teen behavior of a sort she'd found tiresome reading about/watching, but the rest of her told that corner to stuff it and enjoy the rainbow.

There had been a rainbow over Rehoboth bay for seven days straight now: morning, noon, and --confirmed during a particularly bright full moon-- night.

That that happened to be how long she and Steven had been dating hadn't escaped her. Or anyone else, for that matter. 

Apparently Lapis had overheard Steven and her on the stairs that night and made sure _everyone_ knew, literally singing it from the rooftops.

Also, rainbow.

Looking outside, Connie had to admit it was very pretty. And if the weirdness of her life could throw monsters and drama at her then a weeks-long, celebratory rainbow felt like a long-overdue balancing of the scales.

From the bedroom she heard Priyanka's phone alarm going off. The doctor had been napping since she arrived late that morning, because doctors' hours could be weird like that.

Her dad, meanwhile, was at the apartment's workout center while wearing a headset. He said it was convenient being able to punch something while sharing a conference call with a client and Marco at the same time.

Connie looked at the clock on the wall --half-an-hour until school let out-- and sighed that clichéd sigh again.

Shaking her head, she got up and started to walk toward the door, the route to Steven's school clear in her thoughts.

She stopped, grimacing. _What if I look like a weirdo?_ remarked a corner of her.

 _I've met him at school plenty of times before,_ objected another.

 _Yeah, but he wasn't my_ boyfriend _then,_ countered the first. _Now I might look like a stalker._

A tad sheepishly Connie returned to her seat. She picked up the neglected book and stared at it once more.

Her phone chimed.

_* StUn - 02:47pm | <3 <3 <3_

Connie was out the apartment door like a shot, cheeks flushed slightly, a wide smile on her face.

* * *

Peridot lounged on Connie's bed --not that her ward had slept in it much since the launch disaster-- and stared at the TV on in front of her.

A mind as powerful as hers could pay attention to multiple things simultaneously; she'd always felt her talent for multi-tasking was at least one standard deviation above the norm for Peridots. However, the daytime television programming was finding precious little purchase.

Oh, her vision spheres observed the images and she heard every word of the onscreen melodrama --one Shelby was allowing herself to be wooed by a work colleague named Daniel despite this being a contravention of her marital vows-- but the narrative and cultural import passed through her mind like current through a superconductor: without resistance.

She wasn't concentrating on the show. She was distracted. No, 'distracted' was an inadequate label for this phenomenon. She was _disturbed_.

She allowed her limb enhancers to run a self-diagnostic routine while images of orbital bombardment and invasion supplanted the terrestrial soap opera in her mind's eye. Just as this Shelby could not resist the advances of Daniel, Earth would be incapable of successfully rebuking Homeworld a second time. Maybe when the end came, it would be better to ensure-

Onscreen, a third party arrived by timely coincidence, Shelby pulling back from the precipice of something regretful at the last second. At the same time, there was a loud thump outside the Beach House’s front door, as though something heavy was being dropped to the deck.

A second later there was a structural groan and then snap as the door was opened the wrong way, splinters of wood breaking free from the frame and flying across the interior.

A sooty Bismuth stepped through the savaged portal. "Hey Green. The door was stuck." She shook her head. "Wood, right?" Through the ruined doorway she could see a light cannon resting on the porch, gleaming as though freshly forged.

Several rejoinders presented themselves but... it didn't matter. A damaged entryway would make little difference when the entire dwelling was rendered down to constituent atoms and a rapidly expanding vapor cloud.

"Is Jaz around?" asked the smith as she kicked a few of the wood fragments out from underfoot and then looked around.

Her ersatz robonoid Wally emerged from beneath the coffee table, interest momentarily piqued. It prodded an errant wood chip, broadcast the electronic-equivalent of a shrug, then lethargically ambled back below the over-engineered piece of furniture.

"Patrolling," was Peridot's one-word response.

"Oh. And Blue?" Bismuth stepped outside, returning with an armful of weaponry, swords and polearms piled together without any apparent organizational principle.

"Celebrating." Then, to preempt further inquiry, Peridot added, "Should you encounter her, I'm confident she'll be more than eager to inform you of the particulars."

She allowed her head to drop back onto the pillow and observed a preoccupied Shelby ignoring her spouse while the two were entering their nocturnal dormancy.

Bismuth walked over, the Era-1 behemoth tall enough to peer into the loft without ascending the stairs. "Watching something interesting?"

Peridot gave a noncommittal grunt, gaze forward.

After another second of silence the Era-1 builder said with a measure of snark, "Since you asked, I was at the forge." She smiled and absently wiped her brow. She unwittingly transferred some of the carbonized remnants onto Connie's bedsheet when her meaty hand came back down. "We can't be having another dust-up with Homeworld without some new cannons," she added, as if to do otherwise would be rude.

Onscreen, Shelby's spouse was tenacious despite the stonewalling.

"I also made some melee weapons. You know, for the fun of it." The Era-1 reached down and then presented a hooked polearm for Peridot's consideration. "You want a guisarme?"

The certified Kindergartner declined to opine.

Bismuth shrugged, the weapon resting on one broad shoulder. In a casual tone she said, "Ah well. I can see you're busy so I'll-" As the smith turned to depart, the guisarme swung about, striking the television and smashing through the device's exterior. There was a shower of sparks and the screen went blank just as Shelby was about to be goaded out of silence by her spouse.

Peridot sat upright swiftly, her gaze wrathful. "You Era-1 clod! You’ve sundered Connie's entertainment appliance!"

Bismuth shook her head, rainbow hair swishing with the motion. "Clumsy me," she said without visible remorse. "I guess we'll just have to fix it before Alloy comes back." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "Actually, I've got some materials outside. Sturdier stuff." She waggled the polearm. "You know, so I don't accidentally break it again."

Peridot scoffed. "Your 'robust' solution," and she made floating finger quotes in the air as she spoke, "would function poorly if at all: Era-1 alloys commonly interfere with integrated circuits and smart materials."

The large gem nodded. "Sounds right. If only we knew some clever technician who was good at making human tech and gem materials play nice together."

Peridot's mouth became a thin line.

Bismuth's smile widened.

"I prefer the term 'brilliant,'" said the Era-2 as she rose from the bed.

* * *

If Connie wanted to see the landscape of someone's thoughts they had to be thinking of her. It was the invitation her power needed, or the opening it exploited, depending on how you looked at it. Steven and she had been too distracted of late to really test out this new power of hers, but they'd discovered that much.

Which was why Connie, partially see-through, her hair calm despite the steady breeze, was smiling a Mona Lisa smile as she waited outside the school.

Steven was thinking of her.

In her mind's eye she could see his excitement, his happiness, all tinged with impatience for, she assumed, the end of class. Her power didn't tell her _why_ someone felt a certain way, but in this case it was easy to guess.

In the absolute silence that came with being all see-through, Connie was unable to hear the school bell ring. It wasn't until the students started to exit the building that she knew it was time. With some reluctance she stopped focusing on the _impressive_ vista in her mind's eye and half-a-minute or so later the wind was blowing hair into her face as the the noise and sensation of the world came back with a rush.

"-nnie!"

She managed to get her hair out of her eyes just in time to see Steven pull her into a tight hug, her stocky beau lifting her off her feet and spinning her around in the process.

She hugged him back tightly, face buried in his neck, giggling as she reveled in being reunited with him.

Also, his hair smelled really nice. _He must never change shampoo brands,_ she thought, only half-joking.

Elsewhere some of the students looked their way then pointed at the rainbow over the bay.

"I was thinking about you!" exclaimed Steven after he finally set her down.

"I know," she said, unable and unwilling to restrain her smile.

Steven's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you mean you were able to do your magic thing when I was in the school?!"

Connie's eyes went wide. "Oh! I should have asked first! I'm sorry, I didn't think-" she started to apologize.

Steven quieted her with another hug. Being sure to speak into her good ear, he said, "No, it's fine. I don't mind. I just didn't know you could do it through, like, concrete and steel." He gestured toward the school. "The school is also a tornado shelter. And a bomb shelter. Probably a monster shelter too." He pulled back enough to look her in the face. "I think Bismuth would like it, now that I think about it."

Connie chuckled and felt overcome by just how adorable Steven, her _boyfriend_ , was.

She was starting to understand why some stories got so sappy when romance entered the picture.

Connie heard something indistinct over her hearing aid but failed to register it as important. It wasn’t until she heard it a second time that she recognized it as a throat being cleared. In her direction.

Reminded that other people who weren't Steven existed, Connie stepped back out of the hug... though her fingers remained twined with his.

Priyanka stood a few paces away, her expression relaxed but neutral.

The night on the stairs, Lapis had made sure Doug was the first to hear the news. The following day her dad had tried three times to talk with Connie but no amount of lemonade could see him through it. A little later Priyanka came and sat down beside Connie, stating with a calm smile that she and Doug were happy for her and Steven both.

She even pulled Connie into a hug, something Connie found both surprising and surprisingly easy to accept.

After the hug, and in a slightly firmer tone of voice, Priyanka added that they expected to be informed of any dates or unsupervised outings past nine.

"Are you two ready to go to Crossroads?" the doctor asked.

Connie nodded, her outfit already packed in the car. Steven craned his neck to peer past Priyanka at her sedan, parked at the curb a little ways distant.

Intuiting his meaning, Priyanka said, "Your father dropped off your change of clothes. They're hanging up in the back seat so they won't wrinkle."

Steven smiled. "Then I'm ready! Thanks Dr. Kurunthottical!" He gave Connie's hand an excited squeeze.

It was Friday. They had a date.

They had a _first_ date.

They had a _first_ date at a fancy restaurant in Crossroads.

Connie was kind of freaking out but in a good way. Mostly a good way. Sixty-forty good.

She squeezed Steven's hand for comfort.

Priyanka grinned back. "You're welcome Steven, and you can call me Priyanka."

With that she led the pair over to the sedan. Connie and Steven quickly slid into the back seat together and not because Priyanka would have insisted for vehicular safety reasons.

As she started the car and looked carefully into the mirror, Priyanka said, "I was surprised to find you not at home, Connie." The sedan pulled carefully away from the curb. "I could have given you a ride to the school."

Feeling flushed and fluttery, Connie leaned over and rested her head on Steven's shoulder. "I know. I just didn't want to wait."

From the back seat only Priyanka's eyes were visible in the mirror. Connie saw them grow wistful, though there were smile lines as well.

"I understand," sighed the doctor, engaging her turn signal before pulling into traffic.

* * *

The television gleamed gunmetal grey with green highlights. It had undergone multiple rebuildings and, with so few original components remaining, it was arguable if it was even the same television at all.

Neither Peridot or Bismuth were the sorts to let philosophical dilemmas impede their craft.

Besides, the old television couldn't withstand a hit from an onrushing locomotive, nor was it capable of broadcasting colors outside the visible spectrum.

Peridot was willing to concede the _chance_ that Bismuth and she had gotten a little carried away.

With a heavy clang the guisarme bounced off the entertainment device without noticeable effect. Bismuth cheered, adding, "Between that and the coffee table, this place is becoming downright Bismuth-proof."

Peridot inspected the impact site, running an ersatz floating finger over the area. "I confess there is a certain... satisfaction in constructing so robust a solution." Nodding approvingly at its blemish-free surface, she added, "Though adequately insulating the electronics proved quite the challenge."

Bismuth gingerly set the polearm down and rubbed her chin. "Yeah, I still don't understand what you did there. Maybe we work on something a little different next."

Peridot looked up at the smith, a touch bewildered. "Next?"

The Era-1 gave her a lopsided grin. "Sure! It's not like we need to stop for a nap!" Her gaze then swept over the Beach House interior, settling on the kitchen. "Hey Green, how hot can that oven of yours get?"

Peridot blinked then called up the related schematics. A quick skim of the hologram and she replied, "Five-hundred and thirty-seven-point-seven degrees Celcius."

The lopsided grin became a full one. "And how high do you figure we can get it up to?"

Ideas whirled through Peridot's mind. Then she remembered she had access to not only Era-1 materials but a gem with inherent material science expertise. The flurry of ideas became a hurricane.

"Quite-" She licked her lips, finding that part of her projected anatomy dry. "Quite a bit hotter."

* * *

They were in a fancy restaurant, the waiter pulled the seat out for each of them while calling them 'sir' and 'madam', there were multiple forks at their place setting, and the warm bread on the table was sourdough.

In Connie's experience, sourdough and fanciness were correlated.

Priyanka had stopped over at her home so she and Steven could change and get ready. Connie hadn't expected the doctor to help her with her makeup or hair but now she was silently broadcasting beams of gratitude at the woman: she'd been surprised at the girl she'd seen in the mirror when they were done.

"You look lovely, m'lady," said Steven in a posh accent.

Connie froze, arm midway to the bread basket. A glance confirmed that Steven looked chagrined as well.

Back when Jasper had first started training Steven, her friend had become overly deferential, even servile toward Connie and 'm'lady' had been his catchphrase.

Rallying, Connie reached instead for the pitcher of water and, with exaggerated poise, she poured first Steven and then herself a drink. Nodding primly she announced, "And you look quite fetching, your lordship."

Steven took the daintiest sip of water, his expression august throughout. Then, setting the glass down _just so,_ he gave a stately nod of approval... and then joined Connie in descending into giggles.

Connie had to admit, though, Steven looked handsome. And adorable. Was there a word that meant both of those things or would she have to invent one? She wondered because she had a suspicion she’d be using it alot in the near future.

Flushed like she was standing near the fireplace, with a fluttery feeling all over, Connie gazed at Steven. He finished tucking his napkin into his lap and happened to meet hers and the two were held fast, helplessly twitterpated. Together.

* * *

The meal was delicious, though Connie had a hard time focusing on it for very long. Then, when the meal was winding down, Steven had stepped away from the table for 'completely not-secret reasons.'

Connie smiled to herself and nibbled at the remains of her entree while she wondered what he was up to.

She had to shake her head, wondering at how she'd ended up here. On a date. With Steven. Her indescribably cute and sweet _boyfriend._

Ever since she'd met him he'd been one of the brightest lights in her days. But he'd been her friend. Her best friend. With great smelling hair. And a sweet smile. And warm hands she’d found herself holding quite a few times over the last eleven months.

Okay, maybe her feelings hadn't always been as platonic as she'd thought.

It just seemed hubristic (and scary) to try and ask more from the relationship that already meant the most to her. It’d seemed absurd. Or she’d worried she had been misreading Steven’s naturally friendly demeanor. It wasn’t until she’d seen it clear in her face- Well, in her mind’s eye, that she’d been willing to accept the truth.

She was starting to suspect she’d spent the last near-year being willfully ignorant about certain signs and feelings.

Now that she thought about it, no one else seemed all that surprised. Even people Connie didn’t really know had been giving her and Steven approving nods or, in Yellowtale’s case, a hearty handshake that left their hands smelling like fish.

Steven still wasn't back. Curiosity burning within her, Connie tapped into the gemstone at her chest and felt the world grow quiet. She smiled to see the _impressive_ vista of his feelings and how excited he was. Her smile deepened at the warm assurance that he was thinking about her too.

She stared at the breathtaking view for a few seconds longer before she noticed a second mindscape becoming available. With an effort of will she tore her focus away from the colorful pattern blazing bright in her mind's eye and looked around the restaurant. Eyes widening in surprise, she saw mayor Dewey sitting down a few tables over.

Across from him was an old man with a similar pointy nose and ruddy complexion. There was an assisted living home near the restaurant so maybe he was visiting his elderly father.

He waved and Connie gave a sheepish wave back, wondering what he wanted.

As if the question propelled her mind's eye forward, she saw a fractal spiral of brilliant red.

She blinked. _Huh. It looks like a snowflake. A_ really _red snowflake._

There was something about that that was tickling her memory, but then a grinning (and handorable? Adorisome? Hadorsoble? She really needed to look up that word) Steven came around the corner followed by a fancy waiter holding a violin. The thought was washed away by a tide of romantic cuteness and fluttery feelings.

* * *

"What's that you're doing?" asked Bismuth. The smith was taking a break from replacing glass windows with transparent aluminium ones to gawk at Peridot's work on the gutted dishwasher. Outside the stars twinkled, several of them color-tinged as they shone through a rainbow that was present at night even if it was hard to see.

Peridot, soldering among the intricate copper filigree of circuitry, didn't look up from her work as she answered. "Your durasteel chassis for the dishwasher is causing interference with the appliance’s control systems. I'm endeavoring to correct for this."

Bismuth shifted a hand into a chisel and rasped at an itchy bicep. "Fair enough. But why bother? That thing squirts hot water on plates. With some durasteel tubing and a bit of unobtanium components, the thing could squirt hot water on plates for another ten thousand years straight."

A thin curl of smoke rose from the tip of Peridot's soldering finger. "The device you describe would be durable but it would not be smart. With this circuitry, I can program in hundreds of subroutines to provide an optimal cleaning across all manner of sullied cookware."

"I don't know, Green." Bismuth shook her head a little, dreads swaying. "Durable beats smart when you're talking infrastructure. Sounds like you're trying to teach a Zircon to fight when you could just tap an Amethyst on the shoulder and say, 'Get 'em.'"

Peridot worked for another minute before answering, the work consuming most of her attention. "Why not both?"

Bismuth was getting the new, sturdier window into place when she looked over her shoulder. "Huh?"

"My remark was-" and Peridot used a floating finger to wipe particulate debris from her glasses, "-why not make the appliance both durable and smart?"

"Yeah but that fragile circuit stuff doesn't play nice with solid materials." The window was in place and Bismuth was running a shapeshifted digit, needle-fine and flat, around the edge to confirm it fit snugly. A lesser craftsman would rely on glue, but Bismuth was nothing of the sort. "You've said as much probably two dozen times today."

"And it is a considerable technical hurdle," agreed Peridot. "But the untapped potential within that paradigm warrants the attempt. To extend your previous simile, Citrine was a Quartz physique melded with the powers and keen intellect of a far frailer gem line: an admixture intended to optimize across more than one axis."

Satisfied with a window that was now sturdier than the wall it was looking through, Bismuth turned to Peridot. She raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that's the Citrine or Rose Quartz of dishwashers?" There was an undercurrent of humor in her tone.

Peridot started to object but found herself chuckling instead. "I’ll admit it’s slight hyperbole but that is the logical conclusion to my explanation." She ran a tethered finger along the chassis, being careful not to touch the circuitry below. "Perhaps I should take pains not to galvanize this appliance toward open revolt."

That brought an open laugh from Bismuth, the smith crouching down, large hands on her knees as she looked closer at the dish washer and Peridot both. "Hehe, yeah. Of course, if you're so sure we're all going to end up as gravel when Homeworld shows up, why bother?" Her expression was casual but her eyes were appraising.

Peridot stiffened, mental images of blasted remnants flitting across her mind. They came all too easily.

She sniffed and turned back to her work. "It is a diverting intellectual exercise. Nothing more."

Bismuth watched for another minute but didn't press the point. Then she rose and said, "I've been thinking: what if we made that thingy that washes Alloy's clothes produce its own detergents? It's not being used most of the time so how about it be a chemical factory when it’s idle?"

Peridot blinked. "Wouldn't that risk energetic, even explosive reactions?"

Bismuth's smile was all teeth. "Stars yes it would be! The trick is making it only blow up when the other side is nearby. I figure with one of your Era-2 sensor doodads and a durasteel detonator we could-"

* * *

Connie was eating her cereal, head equal parts sleep fluff and twitterpated remembrances from the night before, when there was a knock at the door.

She thought at first it was her dad --he'd left on an errand earlier-- but then, he wouldn't need to knock. Priyanka's shift wouldn't end until dinnertime tonight. Maybe someone delivering a package?

Connie set her spoon down and crossed the apartment. There was another heavy knock as she went.

Her eyebrows jumped up when she opened the door and the hallway beyond was eclipsed by orange skin and a mane of white hair.

"Connie," said Jasper respectfully.

 _She’s probably not delivering a package,_ wryly observed a corner of Connie.

She'd seen the gems from time-to-time since Pearl and Amethyst went home, but having one show up at her dad's apartment was an unsettling surprise. It took Connie a long second to remember she had a mouth. "H-Hi Jasper." Another pause. "Uh, do you want to come in?"

With a curt nod, the large gem crouched and turned sideways a little to fit her bulk through the comparatively narrow door.

She stood at a parade rest a little ways into the living room, eyes briefly examining Doug’s mounted collection of tonfas and batons. Then she turned to Connie. "Steven is your mate now."

Connie winced. Even though she understood, coming from Jasper, the term wasn't meant to be as icky as it sounded, she couldn’t help it.

A glance out the window confirmed the rainbow was up for an eighth day in a row.

"We're dating, yes," answered Connie, adding, "He's my boyfriend, which makes me his girlfriend."

Jasper's eyes narrowed as if she was staring at something in a foreign language and trying to memorize the translation beneath. A beat later she said, "Good. When will he be returning for training?"

Connie blinked. "I'm... not sure. We haven't talked about it. Things have been a little, um, different lately. Since..." she trailed off then added feebly, "...you know."

Jasper considered this with her usual, stoic expression. She then said, "He's your shieldbearer. His training is necessary."

Connie frowned, unpleasant memories from the 'm'lady' era coming to the fore. "He's not-" Connie paused, rethinking her words. "We're a team and we've been busy since they- since the launch. He's been helping me a whole lot, I promise."

Jasper nodded, accepting that at face value and not pressing for details.

There was another pregnant pause between them.

Jasper's gaze swept over the apartment, landing on one of her dad's bookshelves. "We haven't started a new book yet," she said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

Connie looked quizzically up at the Quartz. "Um, what?"

"The Warriors of Literacy were going to start a new book. Then the Amethyst and Pearl escaped Earth. We haven't picked a new book yet," she explained, referring to the book club she and Connie had founded months previously.

"Oh right," breathed Connie. "I'll have to think about it."

Another nod. Another pause. "Is Samwise Éowyn-"

"Our characters are still rebuilding her statue and looking for the de-petrification spell," said Connie. She awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. "We haven't been able to meet as much now that school's started again."

Jasper gave an acknowledging head tilt and then continued to stand there.

"So, is there anything else you need?" asked Connie, bewildered, voice inflecting up as she spoke.

Jasper shook her head.

She didn't go anywhere.

Eventually she said, "I'm waiting for Doug to return."

"Ah." Connie nodded. Then, without a clear plan in mind, she walked over to the door and slid her shoes on. "He should be back in a little while."

Jasper nodded, radiating patience.

"I'm going to go. I'll-" she fumbled for her pack then shouldered it. "Um, I'll go talk to Steven." She opened the door. "About the training."

Another nod.

Connie closed the door and then, quietly because Jasper had surprisingly good hearing, exhaled a long sigh as the pent up awkwardness escaped her.

 _What the heck was that?!_ she thought loudly.

There were hidden and surprising depths to Jasper that Connie had caught glimpses of now and again, but this was something else entirely.

She froze, a thought forming in her mind. Could she? Should she?

_Jasper may not even be thinking about me anymore so it's probably a moot-_

The world became startlingly silent and a fractal vista opened in front of her mind's eye. Connie made a voiceless gasp.

Spirals of orange, white, and black spread out to an infinite horizon. Titanic forces in pattern form were coiled within: rage, sadness, aggression, patience, love, hatred, certainty, and doubt, all contained by absolute barriers of self-discipline.

It was awe-inspiring.

It was unsettling.

It was tampered with. Heavily.

Connie looked and looked, mentally zooming in to see sections in finer detail. There were the telltale marks like the one she'd seen in Lars up on the roof of the Big Donut. The marks were tiny and superficial lines, like faint scars or discolorations: noticeable to Connie's vision but without having any impact on the mind the pattern represented.

Here, they were beyond counting.

But what caught Connie's eye was how swaths of Jasper’s fractal landscape had something more extreme done.

There were places where, somehow, the pattern had been... Connie reached for a word and the only thing that presented itself was _blasted_. These were places where the underlying pattern had been obliterated, pinprick holes of oblivion in the tapestry of a mind. The pattern wove around them and, with the insight her power supplied her, Connie could tell it managed to function despite the damage; a tree, scarred by fire but still growing. But the elegance, the regularity that should have been was gone, impossible to overlook.

The pack had dropped off of Connie's shoulders the moment she'd become see-through. Had gone through her shoulders, actually. But it was with a start of surprise that she realized she'd staggered a few steps while viewing Jasper's vista and was about to collide with the railing at the stairwell landing.

Connie attempted to yank her attention off the fractal and focus on the world around her, arms flying out to stabilize her.

They flowed around and through the bars of the railing, her face and body following a split-second after.

She felt a fleeting pressure where the railing had been and then she plummeted, fast, to the concrete below. Belatedly she thought to summon a force field to break her fall but, with half her mind on the orange vista, she wasn't nearly as coordinated as she was while solid.

There was a suggestion of impact. Connie felt a faint pressure on her palms and legs where she was in contact with the concrete walkway of the apartment building's ground floor. There should have been the sound of her blood thundering in her ears, heart pumping in her chest, but there was only complete and utter silence.

Connie picked herself up then looked at the ten foot fall she'd suffered without so much as a stubbed toe. She certainly hadn't drifted down like a feather --if anything it felt like she'd fallen slightly _faster_ than normal-- but there was no sign of impact or harm to be seen.

She tried to pat herself down but, of course, her hands went right through her.

Half-a-minute or so later and sound, smell, and taste returned, along with the ability to feel something beyond mild pressure. It was so much, Connie actually turned down the volume on her hearing aid a little. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and, relieved, found it undamaged.

Though given how durable the pink-and-titanium device was, a one-story drop to concrete probably wouldn't have been a concern even without weird, see-through ghost powers.

Steven picked up on the first ring. "Hi Connie!" he said brightly, mister Universe's, "Hey Connie," audible in the background along with the thrum of machines.

"Hey Steven," said Connie, gripping her phone tightly. "Something weird just happened." She was already walking out of the apartment complex toward Thayer Street, her pack forgotten and left on the stoop of apartment two-twelve.

Steven's tone shifted in a second, instantly becoming serious and supportive. "Rainbow stuff?" he asked, their shorthand for referring to the Crystal Gems.

"Yeah. Specifically orange."

The machine noises were no doubt coming from the car wash, which was at the opposite end of Thayer, visible even from where Connie was standing. She walked swiftly toward it.

Clutching her phone to her good ear she added, "And maybe yellow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promo was drawn by BurdenKing. The in-chapter art is by MJStudioArts. The pre-chapter comic was drawn by NeonJohn.
> 
> The fractals used in the promo were from [Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/), a fine source for free images.
> 
> Happy 2019 everyone! Ah, it's good to be back. The holiday break was lovely but my co-creators and I have been eager to return. The break wasn't entirely an idle one either, as there's been several new works and pieces of art to share. But before I get into that, I wanted to say that we'll see you Wednesday, January 16th for the next exciting installment of _Colored Perceptions!_
> 
> Our first bit of content is another pic by the wonderful NeonJohn, who did this drawing of Connie in addition to the fabulous comic at the chapter's start.  
> 
> 
> This next one is an image of Connie and Steven loading the _Sentinels_ collectors edition box into Wolf, per Ep29Ch1, and was drawn by MJ as commissioned by the excellent [Cyberwraith9.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberwraith9/pseuds/Cyberwraith9) A big thanks to C9 for both the commission and permission to share the pic freely.  
> 
> 
> There's a canon omake to share which went up. And just between you and me, it might be worth reading in case, hypothetically speaking, an upcoming episode were to touch on some of the contents thereof. [You can't tell but I'm winking.](https://youtu.be/ZlwqST8p70k?t=215)  
>    [The End of an Era - The Unbroken Fortress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/39140074) by [BurdenKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurdenKing/pseuds/BurdenKing) \- "A gem seeks to learn about the end of the era, of the unbroken fortress, the Ziggurat." **This fic is 100% canon.**
> 
> And lastly, something that is NOT Connie Swap related but IS Connie Swap TEAM related. After Connie Swap I plan to write an original story not associated with any existing fandom. I used the holiday break to write a series of five vignettes, each showcasing a character from the story in a short 'day in the life' format. The vignettes are also supposed to introduce some of the world and people of the setting as they go.
> 
> The whole thing is about as long as a mid-length Connie Swap episode, but each chapter is a stand-alone tale so it should be easy to pick up and put down. If you're fond of what I bring to Connie Swap and don't mind off-roading it out of the fandom, you might enjoy giving this a look. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you considered reading and sharing your thoughts on it, in the AO3 comments or in the Discord. Feedback now would be a big help before I make the eventual jump to writing the darn thing in full.  
>    [Amalgam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775092/chapters/39363619) by [br42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/br42/pseuds/br42) \- "Meet Bonnie, Realgar, Vex, Heyan'Dasa, and Batugei in a collection of short stories introducing the characters, races, and setting of Amalgam."
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you have a Connie Swap story burning in your soul that you want to see in our official, curated Omake collection, drop us a comment either in the Omake fic or here in the main fic and we'll get in touch.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


	2. Connecting the Dots

Connie was so distracted she almost didn't turn and say goodbye to Mr. Universe as she and Steven left the car wash.

Stepping outside, the whoosh of an SUV being power washed rang in Connie's good ear, the girl's thoughts turning in spirals. Orange spirals.

She felt Steven's warm fingers lace through her own. "Hey you," he said simply.

Connie felt the manic hamster running on a wheel that was her mind slow down. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Hey you too," she answered.

Steven read her so well, sometimes she wondered if he had secret emotion-seeing powers too.

Her beau led her away from the car wash at a more leisurely pace. His expression grew curious and a touch concerned. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Jasper came by Dad's apartment and when she wasn't looking I peeked at her mind pattern and-" Connie bit her lip. "She was changed, Steven."

"Like Lars?" asked Steven softly.

"Like Lars times a million," she answered, her eyes unfocusing as she recalled the orange vista.

Steven reached up with his free hand to fiddle with the hearing aids he no longer wore, a nervous habit of his. "Okay, but, like, miss Jasper fought your mom, right? Before she joined the Rebellion she was fighting for Homeworld."

Connie nodded hesitantly. "But even then-"

Steven continued, chasing his train of thought. "The gems have all said your mom could make people scared or angry in a fight, and since Jasper fought her a lot, you're seeing, like, the marks from them fighting again and again." A beetle scuttled across the sidewalk in front of them and Steven took care to step around it so it didn't get crushed. "Jasper told me she fought your mom a whole lot before she switched. I think they were best frenemies or something."

That was certainly a comforting interpretation and Connie wanted to believe it but... "There's something else," she said, reluctance in her voice. "There were places where somehow the pattern was... obliterated. Lots of little holes." Pivoting around, Connie took Steven's other hand for added support, her expression pained. "Steven, Mom put holes in Jasper's mind."

Steven went wide-eyed at that, his expression transitioning from surprised to sympathetic to worried.

They were interrupted by a wolf-whistle overhead.

With a giant blob of water in tow, Lapis was soaring past in the direction of the rainbow over the bay. No doubt off to do whatever trick of hydrokinesis was keeping it intact for eight days and counting.

Seen from above, Steven and she probably looked like they were gazing longingly into one another's eyes, Connie realized.

Lapis made an exaggerated motion, one hand moving to and then away from her face, and then a trio of watery shapes split off from the blob and began to hurtle towards the teens. The shapes resolved into puckered lips ready to deliver a smooch.

"Ah, she's blowing us kisses," said Steven.

The kisses, however, were each the size of a basketball and approaching fast.

Connie fell into a defensive stance which prompted Steven --despite Jasper's earlier concerns about his training-- to step into formation beside her. With an act of will, Connie summoned a force field which caught the incoming kiss-missiles, all three splashing spectacularly against it.

There may have been a laugh overhead but Connie couldn't make it out with her sole hearing aid. However, Lapis did circle around, sending another pair of water smooches descending. These, rather than flying in an easily-countered formation, swerved apart and then zipped around, diving at Connie and Steven from opposite directions.

Steven's fingers moved in Connie's peripheral vision; the pair had trained to use both verbal and non-verbal signals in a fight since battlefields could be loud and hearing aids could be damaged. Index fingers together at a point, they traveled down and apart, then back together, outlining a three-sided shape, the sign for triangle.

Connie nodded and waited, not wanting to give Lapis a chance to make the missiles dodge. At the last possible moment Connie willed a pair of angled fields into place on either side of them, the two coming to a point overhead.

A watery pair of lips kissed each field, transforming into a great big splash that Connie and Steven were fortunately sheltered from.

Glancing up Connie could see Lapis --her blue silhouette green when viewed through the yellow fields-- as an indistinct blur overhead. Going wide-eyed, she acted on the opportunity and tried to will her herself to see-

A great swirling ocean of blue became, as Connie was suffused in a yellow glow of comprehension, vast swaths of sadness and regret overlayed with joyful exuberance. It was like an oceanographer's map charting terrain that in places rose high, high up... and in others, so very, _very_ low.

The marks were countless, like lines demarcating currents in the ocean, plotting a course between the depths of abject depression and peaks of manic happiness. And scattered throughout where holes in that ocean, blasted points in the pattern where nothing remained.

Connie wanted to study longer but there was a brief stretching sensation and then she found herself suddenly looking at the vista of Steven's mind. With difficulty, Connie paid attention to the world of Beach City and saw Lapis flying away, blob of water in tow, apparently beyond the reach of Connie's power.

Waving to the retreating figure, Steven turned and started to say something. Stopping himself, he signed instead, "[Were you able to see miss Lapis' mind space?]"

Connie nodded, eyes downcast. "[Yes. There were marks.]" A dejected beat later she added, "[And holes.]"

Her head full of worries, Connie turned to pace, had a brief glimpse of yellow, and then felt an absolute force against her chest stopping her dead in her tracks.

Connie blinked and looked down to find that her head and neck were extending out of one of the damp force fields steepling them. It was like she was a glitching video game character whose head had clipped through a wall. But the gemstone at her chest could not in any way pass through the field.

She reached out with a hand, kicked out with a foot, and her extremities were able to pass through the field with only a suggestion of resistance.

She _really_ needed to experiment with this power more to figure out how it worked.

Connie ghosted back into the force field tent and saw Steven suffering a mix of emotions: surprise and excitement warring with the weight of recent, troubling revelations. Focusing on the positive, he signed, "[I think you just unlocked no-clip. My girlfriend is officially OP!]"

Had Connie been capable of it, she'd have made the sort of surprised laugh that included a snort. She was saved that indignity by merit of being soundless. She was saved a further indignity when her force fields winked out, dropping a lingering film of water down on Steven and through Connie.

Her boyfriend jolted in surprise at the light but unexpected splash. About half-a-minute later Connie was tangible again and able to help dab him dry with a tissue.

* * *

"You tried to help Lars be better, so maybe your mom was trying to help miss Lapis."

They were following the sandy path around the cliffs, the temple coming into view. Steven was walking beside Connie, his right arm around Connie in a mobile half-hug, trying to comfort her with his presence as well as his words.

"Maybe," she conceded, feeling conflicted and, as the Beach House drew closer, apprehensive. "But I still don't know how to explain the holes."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Steven said, "Before I was born Mom used to smoke. She told me once while we were pulling weeds out in the garden that it'd be nice if she could just weed out the part of her that still missed cigarettes."

Connie looked over, seeing Steven in profile. "You think those are, like, removed bad habits?"

Steven gave a shrug, pulling her in a little closer as he did, and flashed her an apologetic smile. Even he recognized it as a stretch.

"Besides," Connie muttered darkly, "If this is them with the worst habits removed, I shudder to think what they were like before."

They reached the base of the Beach House. Connie listened and thought she might have heard noise coming from within, but it was hard to tell with the sole hearing aid. She was about to ask Steven if he could hear anything when there was a bright flash and the Beach House shuddered.

Yep, there was definitely _something_ going on inside.

The last two times she'd done this, Connie’d had some really unpleasant surprises sprung on her. Which was why she reached up and squeezed Steven's hand for support before she attempted to reach out and see-

Steven's hand dropped, falling through her shoulder as it swung unimpeded back to his side. It passed without issue through her gemstone on the way down, so whatever had happened with it and the force fields didn't seem to apply here.

Connie was aware of two vistas: one familiar, _impressive_ , the other was-

A complex pattern of green and yellow filled Connie's mental view. Before the yellow glow of understanding came to her, she marveled at the intricate and meticulous whirls, shapes arranged not in a rigid grid of lines or columns like she'd suspected she might see, but rather spiraling curves that defined very organic shapes. It was only when she looked closely that she saw the hexagonal grid interwoven into the larger whole, a substrate of order that complimented rather than dominated the pattern.

As power-assisted understanding dawned, however, she saw...

It was different from what she'd seen when she'd first looked at Steven's mindscape. His had been like a giant Connie statue littered with rose petals. This was more like a hug in metaphorical form, equal parts protective and proprietary, comforting and clinging. Without realizing it, Connie found the lullaby Peridot used to sing to her wafting through her thoughts.

That Peridot was thinking of her, that the most obvious feature of her mental landscape was maternal concern struck Connie like a hammerblow. That the second most obvious feature was a vast and all-pervasive depression, where fear, horror, and cold helplessness combined into a nihilistic mire, had Connie tearing up.

The moisture from her eyes, even more see-through than normal tears, fell from her eyes, through her cheeks and everything else, to the ground below. They pooled directly on the sand, an ephemeral puddle that refused to be absorbed.

On instinct Connie, or the representation of her that she imagined when interacting with someone's emotional landscape, started to reach out, to smooth away some of the depression that gripped Peridot. There were marks enough already --far fewer than she'd seen in Jasper and Lapis, with no holes blasted into the pattern-- that one more wouldn't stand out.

She grasped one part of the dark, emotional morass... and then froze. This... This felt familiar, like what she'd done to Lars. And _that_ wasn't something she was eager to repeat, least of all with Peridot.

 _But she's so distraught,_ observed a part of Connie, still weeping slightly at the vista before her. _I have to do something to help._

Connie took a deep breath... maybe. It didn't seem like she actually interacted with air while she was like this. She drew what might have been a deep breath and suddenly felt rather stupid, the obvious solution presenting itself.

She turned to Steven and signed, "[I'll be right back.]" Soundlessly, she hurried up the stairs, the sensations of the world returning to her moments before she tried to open the door.

Below, the tears were drank by the thirsty sand, a faint damp spot taking their place.

Connie froze on the threshold, a changed Beach House within. For one, it was filthy, days or even weeks of accumulated debris piled up with little-to-no cleaning done. For another, half the appliances were in states of disassembly and the other half were a hodge podge of human and gemtech, Era-1 and Era-2 materials visible in a bewildering new aesthetic.

Also, Bismuth was in there, standing in front of a glowing oven, smoke trailing off her and small fires burning in places across her chest and shoulders.

 _I guess she wasn't thinking about me too,_ observed the corner of Connie that wasn't gobsmacked. It felt mildly offended.

Bismuth shut the oven door, the temperature dropping noticeably as she did. Unconcerned with being lightly aflame, she smiled widely and said, "Hey Alloy! Guess what? You've got an oven you can smelt tungsten with!" She idly patted away a couple of the small flames, adding, "We're still working out the kinks with the flamethrower though. Probably want to stay out of the kitchen 'til we do."

It was then that Connie noticed a bewildered Peridot standing at the entrance to the kitchen, a fire extinguisher in hand.

"Connie?" she asked, surprised.

That jolted Connie back into action, the girl moving as quickly as the clutter allowed to close the distance to Peridot and pull the gem into a tight hug. "I love you too, and I'm sorry it's so bad for you right now," she mumbled into the gem's chest.

There was a clunk from floating fingers dropping an extinguisher a ways distant, and then the hug was returned. The ear with her hearing aid was smooshed against Peridot's form so she couldn't make out the words, but the tone --surprised but warm and affectionate-- was enough for Connie.

They held one another, muttered comforts to one another, for a time where, for Connie at least, the outside world politely excused itself and stepped into the background.

Things weren't fixed --far from it-- but at least Peridot's worth and hurt were being acknowledged. That had to help. Didn't it?

 _Besides,_ thought Connie as she squeezed Peridot a little tighter, _adjusting someone who loves you is pretty-_

A chill went through Connie, racing down her spine like an avalanche. She staggered back from the hug, not so much looking at Peridot as past her. The gem said something but Connie wasn't really listening, eyes going wide with mounting horror.

"I-I'm sorry, I just thought of something _REALLY_ important," stammered out the girl as she staggered through the messy Beach House. "I have to go," she said too distracted to notice that much of the door jamb was missing or that she was opening the door the wrong way as a result.

She sprinted out of the Beach House and hurtled down the stairs, clumsily pulling out her phone and jabbing the button to call her dad.

 _Pleasebehome-Pleasebehome-Pleasebehome,_ she chanted inwardly, her other hand at her gemstone as her power sink cycled colors swiftly.

* * *

The sound of Connie's rapid descent was heard within the Beach House. It wasn't until the sound of her footfalls had dropped below audible levels that Peridot shared a look at Bismuth.

"What do you suppose that was about?" asked the smith.

Peridot shook her head, too unsure of a great many things to articulate a suitable response and, if she was being honest with herself, reluctant to dispel the moment of the hug quite yet.

The sensation of Connie held in her embrace lingered like warmth on a mug of tea.

"I'm not certain," she said eventually, "but I think perhaps we should hold a moment and clear the entryway of debris in case there is a return visit."

The literature was quite unambiguous about just how dangerous even modest falls could be to humans. Fortunately Connie had rolled with the rather-more-literal-than-Peridot-would-have-liked punches that came with being an active member of the Crystal Gems, but that was no reason to invite mishaps. Besides, Doug and the Steven visited often enough to warrant a moment's effort.

Bismuth shrugged and shapeshifted one of her forearms into a wide shovel, then halted midway out the kitchen. "I thought you had tech to do that for you. What were they called? Robo-spheres or something?"

As if responding to the subject at hand, her ersatz robonoid Wally emerged from beneath the coffee table to survey the area, though it made no effort to effect cleanliness.

Bismuth pointed with her shapeshifted limb --Peridot making a conscious effort not to be riled up by this casual display of the standard Era-1 power set-- and said, "Yeah, that little gal." Addressing the robonoid directly, she said in an inquiring tone, "Are you going to sweep up so Bismuth and Peridot can make this base ready for anything that gets thrown at it?"

The robonoid broadcast a few sensor and debug logs, the droid-equivalent of a shrug, before settling down in power-conservation mode.

A beat passed and then Bismuth said in a flat tone, "I guess not."

Peridot had been using the tractor beam feature of her primary limb enhancer to shift clutter but she paused to offer an explanation. "That ersatz robonoid --designation 'Wally,' by the way-- is undergoing a transitory period in its programming, hence its apparent idleness."

The blade of Bismuth's shovel-hand rasped against an elbow. "Say what?"

"Approximately six weeks ago, Connie complained that Wally was too zealous in pursuing its cleaning directive. This directive effectively elevates tidying in importance for Wally, with commensurate satisfaction in making an area clean and dissatisfaction at seeing an area disorderly," lectured Peridot. "In response to Connie's complaint, I removed the directive."

Bismuth leaned forward against the kitchen divider, a few streaks of soot being smeared across the wood as she did. She looked thoughtfully between Wally and Peridot. "Couldn't you have just made that directive-thingy weaker?"

"I could," said Peridot, still sweeping via tractor beam as she spoke, "And it would be the quicker fix to employ, but it would be an inelegant long-term solution. What constitutes an optimization of the twin variables of cleanliness and Connie's satisfaction would shift over time, meaning I would have to make repeated adjustments to keep pace. Rather than blindly clean until a certain threshold is reached, it would be better for Wally's personality matrix to be self-motivated to find satisfaction in optimizing. Put simply, Wally would find more felicity when Connie was as pleased as possible while the Beach House was a tidy as possible, obviating me from continually intervening."

"Yes," said Bismuth with a lazy grin. "Very simple. But why isn't she doing any of that now?"

"Ah, well," and Peridot felt a touch bemused as she spoke, "Waiting for an entity to discover the correct solution for itself is generally a slow and uncertain process. Wally was accustomed to receiving an artificially high level of satisfaction from cleaning and is now having to find motivation with less. This has been further complicated by Connie being so absent and/or dissatisfied of late, which makes it difficult for Wally to seek that optimum."

"So you're telling me that you're waiting for your buddy over there to figure out the right answer for herself," drawled Bismuth, the look of amusement still on her face. "And because Alloy isn't here to help her, she's having a hard time."

"That is... broadly correct, yes," said Peridot a touch reluctantly. "You disagree with my methodology?"

Bismuth shook her head, grin widening. "No, I just wanted to make sure we hadn't started talking about Blue or Jaz along the way."

She chuckled at her own display of observational wit and added, "Besides, it's nice hearing you talk about long-term solutions."

Peridot, deeming the entryway sufficient de-cluttered, heaved a sigh and turned to face her Era-1 colleague. "I would appreciate if you didn't attempt to goad me out of my prediction of impending and insurmountable calamity."

Bismuth raised her hands --one still in shovel form-- as a conciliatory gesture. "Right, right. Sorry, Green. How about we get back to fixing this flamethrower problem of ours," offered Bismuth. She reverted her hand to normal and opened the rebuilt oven's door, furnace-like heat washing over the gem. "I say we hook the controls into these dials. Set all of the burners to max and you'll roast more than a turkey."

Why had Bismuth and she altered the oven to be capable of smelting terrestrial metals and now project flash-ignited accelerants? Because they could.

"Making the immolation feature a specific setting of the existing controls would work," agreed Peridot, "but I worry about unintended activations. Jasper, for all her newly acquired acumen in cooking, can sometimes misuse the range controls."

Bismuth shrugged. "It's not like a surprise fireball is going to be too big of a problem for Jaz."

"True," Peridot conceded, "But it would still be deleterious to the meal and cookware besides. Additionally, Lapis is none too careful and far less robust. To say nothing of Connie or the Steven." She shook her head. "No, I think we will need to include an additional fail-safe. Perhaps an optical sensor that confirms nothing with a familiar silhouette is standing directly in the path."

The Era-1 gem nodded casually. "If you say you can make it work then I believe you. Man, if we'd had some of this tech during the war..." and she trailed off with a chuckle. "This one time, we were trying to rig a rockslide as part of an ambush and Biggs-"

The high-pitched cry of a warning klaxon ('woop-woop') interrupted Bismuth's tale.

"What's ('woop-woop') that?" asked the smith. She stepped clear of the oven, hand becoming a serrated axe head. "An attack? ('woop-woop')"

"No. ('woop-woop') It's an ('woop-woop') alert from the command ('woop-woop') center regarding- GAH!” and she hastily silenced the alarm. “As I was saying, the command center is notifying me of an irregularity that needs my attention. This one appears to be-" and she eyed the hologram that had popped up, "with the warp network."

"That doesn't sound like a 'no' on the whole 'attack' thing," drawled Bismuth before blinking and adding, "We have a command center?"

She looked around the Beach House appraisingly.

"It's located within the wall of the hygiene chamber," explained Peridot as she stepped gingerly across the cluttered Beach House.

"Oh, so the waste heat can be used for hot water," announced Bismuth with a smile as she walked around and out of the kitchen, bulldozing a path after the technician.

Peridot grinned, stepping into the bathroom-cum-command center and opening the panel behind the bathroom mirror to reveal the displays. "It's so satisfying for someone to recognize the synergy of that location."

Bismuth nodded as she squeezed through the doorway, hunched over to peer at the monitors herself. "It also explains why Alloy spends so long in here sometimes."

Peridot chose not to correct that particular misinterpretation, instead transferring the day's warp network logs to her primary limb enhancer and printing out the results. She held the paper up for Bismuth's perusal, a floating finger tapping the offending entry.

"This is the warp network utilization log, extending back twenty-four hours to the present. Here we see Jasper, Lapis, even you making use of it but here-"

Bismuth squinted. "What is that?" she asked, staring at the unfamiliar identifier.

Peridot shook her head. "I do not know."

Just then there was another alert, another unidentified entry on the screen depicting the up-to-date log. Then two more. Then five more. Then a dozen.

Peridot and Bismuth's eyes shot up in unison. Then the pair rushed for the control room's exit and warp pad beyond, the Era-1 smith adding a second door to her tally of damaged entryways for the day.

* * *

Steven had kept pace with Connie for a time but long-distance running wasn't his strong suit. He'd eventually waved her ahead and fallen behind.

No one could fault the determination Steven brought to training, but he'd been doing it for months whereas Connie had been training under Jasper and Peridot for pretty much her whole life and in some places it showed.

And so it was that Connie burst into her dad's apartment alone, gasping but unwilling to slow down.

Laptop on the table in front of him, her dad rose to his feet in a hurry. "Connie? Are you-"

"Sorry, but-" Pant. "-I have to-" Gasp. "-check something. Super-" Deep breath. "Super important."

Without explaining further, Connie reached out with her power, the world went silent, and-

The view unfolded beneath her mind’s eye.

Connie staggered, then collapsed onto the couch, the cushions feeling as soft and yielding as concrete, her ephemeral body leaving no indents in the material as she landed.

Pristine.

Like Steven's, her dad's mental landscape was unmarked, uninfluenced.

She tried not to look too hard at anything else, willing her attention away from the vista.

 _Interesting observation,_ remarked a corner of Connie's mind while she lay there, relieved beyond words and unable to speak even if she weren’t. _I'm not tired or gasping for breath now that I'm see-through._

She gave her dad --who was standing over her wide-eyed and saying something loudly that she was utterly unable to hear-- an affirming wave while another corner thought, _I wonder if this is how the gems feel all the time?_

Steven came through the already open door and his mental vista appeared before her mind’s eye alongside her dad's. With a mote of guilt she realized she had momentarily forgotten about Steven, such was her concern and subsequent relief, which was why she hadn't sensed him until he'd staggered in.

Her dad said something to Steven. Steven started to say something back when he noticed Connie wave at him and then gesture toward her ear.

"[Connie has a new power that let's her go see-through like that,]" he said for her dad's benefit while signing for Connie's.

Her dad, still visibly shaken by all of this, positioned himself so he could see Connie and Steven at the same time and said something to Connie. Steven then began relaying the message via signs. "[You're alright? How long does this last?]"

Connie sat up on a couch that may as well have been chiseled from stone and signed to Steven, "[I'm fine. I was freaked out because I was worried about what I'd see but everything is okay now.]" Steven, conveying that to her dad, slumped in visible relief, having to take a moment to lean against the wall before he could continue interpreting.

"[And this seems to last however long I concentrate on it plus an extra minute or so after. Kind of like my-]"

Connie sank into the soft confines of the couch mid-sentence, the sounds and sensations of the world returning in a rush. To her pleasant surprise she wasn't breathless and she felt much less exhausted than she'd been when she'd burst into her dad's apartment.

She really needed to test this power more.

The others, she noticed, were looking at her.

Oh, right.

"Kind of like my force fields, now that I think about it," she finished.

Her dad moved around the couch and then sat at the end opposite her. Steven, still panting from his earlier exertion, flopped down in the armchair Priyanka favored for reading, a medical journal resting on the end table beside it.

"You can do that flicker thing your mother could," said her dad in a soft voice, his expression the curious mix of proud, nostalgic, and sad he got whenever Connie reminded him of her mom. Then, his demeanor shifting more into 'dad' mode, he said, "What were you expecting to see that had you running over here?"

Connie and Steven shared a look, neither sure how best to phrase, 'We thought Citrine might have mind-whammied you into loving her.'

"Oh, uh," stammered Connie, wringing her hands, "So this morning Jasper came by and-"

* * *

After the explanation, a pause so her dad could get everyone lemonade, a repeat of the explanation, a hug (plus more lemonade), and then a third walkthrough of recent events and suspicions, Connie's dad shook his head and said, "Your mother didn't tell anyone that she could influence others other than inducing panic or rage as a battlefield tactic. At least, I never heard anything from her or the other gems to indicate she had."

He stared off into the middle distance for a time, something he'd been doing quite a bit during the talk, then said, "She liked to watch people going about their lives. Said that few things could compare to the sight of it."

He blinked and his focus returned to his daughter, his expression curious and a little vulnerable. "What does it look like?" he asked. "Whenever I'd ask her about it, she'd only speak about it in abstract, poetic terms."

Connie fidgeted under her dad's gaze --talking about mom with him was always a mixed affair for father and daughter both-- and said, "It's a giant pattern. Colors represent different emotions, the structures represent the person's personality, and the whole thing is this vast fractal." She grew quiet, her gaze moving toward Steven without intending it, and added in a soft voice, "It's really impressive to look at."

Steven flashed Connie a smile and the girl, realizing she was staring, flushed slightly and smiled back.

Doug opened his mouth to speak but then shut it, giving the latest of a number of faraway stares. This one, however, had a look of concentration to it, his brows furrowed.

"A fractal, you say?" he said softly after a minute. Then he nodded to himself and rose to his feet. Moving purposefully he retrieved his 'around town' baton from the mount on the wall and clipped it to his belt, then walked over to his laptop.

"There's something of Citrine's at the Beach House we might want to see," he said matter-of-factly while composing a quick message. "I just have to tell Marco I'm going offline due to rainbow stuff."

"You mean a clue?!" // "Wait, you say 'rainbow stuff' too?!" exclaimed Connie and Steven at the same time.

While her dad could have driven them, the car couldn’t have taken them further than the Big Donut parking lot, which wasn't that far from the apartment to begin with. The three chose to walk instead.

The rainbow was vibrant in the sky above the bay, drawing the eye almost anywhere you looked.

Connie, flanked by Steven and Doug as they cut across Thayer, remembered something that had been nagging her since this morning but been at the back of an increasingly long line of more immediate concerns. "Hey Dad? What was it Jasper wanted to talk with you about earlier?"

Her dad, who had been staring off at his memories more than his surroundings, blinked and said, "Huh? Oh. She was wanting my advice on handling something, uh, human-related that I probably shouldn't share on her behalf. That and to ask when I thought you'd be moving back to the Beach House."

Connie had nothing to say to that and let the subject drop, her hand seeking out and then clutching Steven's as they went.

As they walked past the Big Donut --Sadie was crouched at counter-height with her mouth open while Lars (who had un-quit from the job a few days ago) was withdrawing donut holes from a bag and trying to toss them into her mouth-- Steven addressed the Maheswarans. "Oh! I just thought of something really important we need to talk about!"

Doug and Connie looked at the teen, eyebrows raised.

"We need to figure out a name for Connie's newest power," he stated with gravity.

Connie nodded earnestly. To the destiny partners, power naming was serious business.

Doug, glancing at his daughter, shrugged and turned to the matter at hand. "'People watching?'" he offered.

The pair considered this a little longer before each pulled a face, Connie adding, "Comes off as kind of creepy, honestly." 

“Yeah,” agreed Steven, nodding.

"Hmm… 'Color vision?'" offered Connie.

Doug’s suggestion of ‘Emotional Spectrum’ was very well received.

"'Roy Ghost Biv!'" announced Steven.

"'Transparen-see,'" said Connie with a giggle.

"'Emotional _Clear_ -ity,'" offered Doug, voice thick with mirth.

"'Clyde?'"

Father and daughter stopped in their tracks and turned to Steven. "Can you... elaborate?" asked the older Maheswaran.

"Oh, well we're talking about Connie going all ghostly and seeing colors and there isn't really a yellow ghost in Pac-Man but one that's, like, yellowish-orange is named Clyde so..."

Connie and Doug both laughed at that while looking at Steven fondly, albeit for different reasons.

They were approaching the stairs to the Beach House when Doug stopped and announced, "'Colored Perception!'"

Steven's eyebrows jumped up and his mouth became an 'o'. "Oooh, that's a good one. We can call it CP for short."

Connie smiled and nodded, adding, "I like that it calls attention to the viewer's judgement." She slowed, a hand drifting up to her gemstone. "I think with a power like that, humility would be really important." Her other hand sought out Steven's, this time to receive comfort from him in his capacity as her Light Side coach.

That matter settled, they ascended the stairs and entered an empty Beach House, stepping around the light cannon sitting in the middle of the deck.

"Aiyō," muttered Doug at the same time Steven gasped, "Holy guacamole," the former slipping into Tamil to express his surprised displeasure at the messy interior.

Connie, having known what to expect, scooched past them. "At least someone tidied the entryway." She looked down to find Wally idly prodding some of the debris at the edge of the cleared area. She crouched and said, "Did you clean this up, Wally? Thank you! Good little robonoid," giving its chassis an affectionate pat.

Her dad cast about, having a hard time finding what he was looking for amidst the discarded wrappers, donut boxes, wood fragments, appliance components, assorted weapons, and bits of Era-1 and Era-2 materials. "Anyone see a step ladder? I need to get up to the safe behind Citrine's portrait."

Connie cleared her throat and, when the others backed far enough away, willed a small horizontal force field about three feet off the ground.

"Oh, right," said her dad, flashing his daughter an appreciative look. Then he stepped up onto the field and reached up to unhook the painting, Citrine apparently unbothered by the clutter as she looked serenely out over the Beach House interior.

Wally, meanwhile, had been standing stock-still, computations taking place within. Then, a little hesitantly at first, it swept up a pile of sawdust and wood splinters. It gave a chirp, peered up at Connie, then turned back to its work.

Gingerly, Doug handed the art down to Steven and Connie, adding, "Be very careful with that." His gaze lingered on it a second longer before turning back to the now-revealed safe.

"What's in there?" asked Connie as Steven oh-so-carefully lowered the painting down like it was a sleeping kitten or Fabergé egg.

"Copies of your birth certificate and social security card. Passport. Peridot's childcare book. Emergency money, though you already knew about that. And-" said her dad as he finished turning the dial and then opened the safe with a 'clunk.' “-A couple of Citrine’s keepsakes.” Rooting around inside he withdrew a quartet of items. He handed them down to Connie, then closed the safe and had Steven (oh-so-gently) pass the portrait back up so he could re-hang it above the entryway.

The first item was a heavy, grey stick wrapped with a length of yellow ribbon, which Connie held reverently. The ribbon was the same shade as her gemstone but seemed otherwise mundane.

She looked up at her dad for context, the man stepping down from the field a few seconds before it vanished.

"That's from a trip your mother and I took to Yellowstone's petrified forest. After a particularly eventful hike and an altercation with a suspicious park ranger, I got her the stick as a keepsake. And on the way out of the park I tripped and broke the silly thing in half, which Citrine thought made it even more special. She tied that ribbon around it to hold to together." He shook his head, expression wistful. "She found the strangest things fascinating sometimes. Anyway, she wanted this saved for you."

Goggling at it for a moment longer, Connie looked at this curious maternal relic/keepsake before passing it carefully to Steven.

He set it down oh-so-gently.

The next was- "A whistle?" Longer and narrower than a normal whistle, Connie was pretty sure the shiny metal was aluminum instead of something from space. The 'Made in Aqua Mexico' stamp on the bottom further confirmed her suspicion.

"It's a dog whistle," explained her dad. "And I have no idea why-" He stopped and then buried his face in his palms at the same time Connie and Steven exclaimed, "Wolf!"

The third item was an old polaroid picture. It showed a younger Doug standing in front of the Funland Arcade with Citrine on his arm, Connie's mom towering above the man. Lapis flanked Doug, the gem giving Connie's father blue bunny ears with one hand. Beside her was Peridot in eye-watering, 'The Fun One,' early-90s attire, making the _Camp Pining Hearts_ salute. Beside Citrine, expression stoic, was Jasper.

"That one feels pretty self-explanatory," said her dad while crouched, looking over Connie's shoulder.

The last one was a folded piece of graph paper, crinkly and faded with age. Taking care to unfold it gently, Connie flipped it open and gasped.

It was a map pencil drawing of a fractal: yellow, black, and pink dominating the pattern.

"That's a mindscape, what I see with my colored perception power," breathed Connie.

Her dad nodded. "I thought it might be after your discussion earlier. She spent forever making that; the box of graph paper I got her felt a lot lighter when she was done. She even bought a book about fractals to study while she did it."

"Oh. Ooooh," said Connie, recalling it among the books she'd found in her mom's room.

Then a penny dropped and she remembered something she'd forgotten over her date with Steven. "Oh my gosh! Mom's journals! The weird color stories are her looking at the people around town! She called mayor Dewey 'Crimson Snowflake' or something similar and I happened to see him at the, uh, restaurant last night and his mindscape absolutely looks like a red snowflake!"

"What does it mean?" asked Steven, stepping carefully so that Wally could sweep the floor around his feet.

"It means," said Connie as she held the drawing in front of her, back straight and chin raised, "This is a clue from mom. From her to-" her voice hitched. "To me. Maybe about what I saw with the other Crystal Gems. And it's leading us to whoever has this mindscape."

* * *

The whole enterprise put Peridot in the mind of the Whack-A-Mole game at the nearby arcade that Lapis had been inordinately fond of. Then again, Lapis enjoyed most variations on the theme of striking something with a hammer.

After a few false starts, Bismuth and she had agreed to follow after a specific warp pad irregularity rather than pursue the others popping up. They had tracked it across more than a dozen warps, always just a small margin of time behind it.

One warp and they were in Manikota. Another and they were on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. Another and they were somewhere tropical watching volcanic ash billow skyward. Another and they were seeing the evening sun reflecting off the geodes of Mask Island.

"What's it doing?" asked Bismuth while Peridot scanned the log report to find their quarry's latest destination.

"I am beginning to suspect this is a depth-first search of the terrestrial warp network," replied Peridot as she paged through the data on her holograms.

"A what?"

"A rule-guided effort to either locate something or map Earth's warp infrastructure. Though- Ha!" she exclaimed, a tendril finger thrust skyward as a hologram popped up in her vision. "I have reverse-engineered the warp destination pattern! Given time I will know their final destination, but more immediately it means that our irregularity will soon be warping to..." and a pillar of light engulfed them.

They arrived in a lightly forested area in roughly the same longitude as Beach City to judge by the sun overhead. A pond nearby was home to migratory fowl, several of which craned their sinuous necks to peer at the gems.

The elongated neck combined with their imperious attitude reminded Peridot faintly of her former Diamond.

Just then the warp pad activated and Bismuth lunged forward, a very brief melee ensuing. When the Era-1 engineer rose she was clutching a small, squirming figure.

"Hey Green?" she asked as the flask robonoid, smooth and pristine save for a newly-earned crack in its chassis, struggled impotently. She held it one one large palm, the other hand shifted into a hammer and gesturing at the piece of Era-2 tech. "Is this one yours?"

Peridot could only stand there, mouth agape, as tangible evidence of Homeworld's return waved its tiny limbs ineffectually.

Her primary limb enhancer dinged, a hologram appearing, the ultimate destination computed.

The Galaxy Warp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: the concept of the ribbon-tied petrified stick as a Doug-Citrine keepsake came from a scrapped draft of [Cyberwraith9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberwraith9/pseuds/Cyberwraith9)'s wonderful omake, [My Own Worst Enemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/37793498). Thanks, C9, for letting me read that scrapped version and ~~steal~~ borrow from it along the way.
> 
> This chapter grew in the telling beyond what I could feasibly write in the time available while ensuring the story's quality. Which is good if you felt like Connie Swap wasn't long enough but a real pity in that MJ and BurdenKing wrote some great prose we haven't gotten to and drew an amazing picture for what's coming next. However, what remains isn't all that large (I'm guessing somewhere on the order of 2,000 words or so) so I plan to have that ready to go up later this week, hopefully **Friday**. Our schedule will remain otherwise unchanged, with an off week between Ep30 and Ep31 and then Ep31 beginning on Wednesday, January 30th.
> 
>  _However_ , there is quite a bit of art to share nonetheless, it's just not from MJ or BurdenKing.
> 
> The first is an edit of Connie and Steven's first date by NeonJohn, only with Lapis having chosen a cunning disguise from which to prank them... and then finding herself in an awkward spot.  
> 
> 
> The second, also by the wonderful NeonJohn, is a comic about Connie using her newest power.  
> 
> 
> Also, in the Connie Swap Discord we had another Connie-centric Momswap AU pointed out, a very cool looking project by [Dream Big](https://dreambigstars.tumblr.com/) which we are sharing here with the artist's permission:  
>   
>   
>   
>   
>   
> You can visit Dream Big's [Tumblr page](https://dreambigstars.tumblr.com/) if you're interested in seeing more.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you have a Connie Swap story burning in your soul that you want to see in our official, curated Omake collection, drop us a comment either in the Omake fic or here in the main fic and we'll get in touch.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


	3. Destination Acquired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After you finish reading this chapter, there are two related omake stories you might want to check out:  
> [Escape from Homeworld](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/33132777) by [br42](http://archiveofourown.org/users/br42/pseuds/br42), [BurdenKing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BurdenKing/pseuds/BurdenKing), [MJStudioArts](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MjStudioArts/pseuds/MjStudioArts) \- "Novaculite, a warp pad technician and veteran from Earth, needs to find a way to the one planet she knows Homeworld won’t follow her." Note: Contains original art from MJStudioArts. **This fic is 100% canon.**
> 
> [The End of an Era - The Unbroken Fortress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/39140074) by [BurdenKing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BurdenKing/pseuds/BurdenKing) \- "A gem seeks to learn about the end of the era, of the unbroken fortress, the Ziggurat." **This fic is 100% canon.**

"Is this one yours?"

"... No. No, it's not," Peridot eventually muttered.

It had been approximately five centuries since Peridot had seen a robonoid not cobbled together out of scrap. The squirming servitor was simultaneously indescribably beautiful and utterly terrifying, and seeing it made her form ache, a gemstone-deep longing that cut her to the quick.

Being denied her primary function was one of the hardest challenges she’d ever known as a gem and she’d thought, during her more optimistic moments, that she’d moved beyond it; that the yearning had been redirected toward more fruitful endeavors. Or, failing that, buried sufficiently deep.

She was wrong on both counts, and given the pained sensation twisting within her, a part of her wondered if she’d unknowingly suffered another blast to her midsection. Yet another part of her hoped that was the case: the subsequent formlessness would be a respite, if nothing else.

Rocked by considerable inner turmoil, Peridot missed the initial portion of Bismuth's sentence.

"-crush it, will you?" asked the Era-1 engineer, raising her hammer-shaped hand for the blow.

"Wait!" The word had ripped its way out of Peridot's mouth seemingly of its own volition.

Bismuth paused.

Her initial objection had been an instinctive recoiling at the notion of obliterating this precious tech. However, a thought formed in Peridot's powerful mind which retroactively justified her protestation.

"Some agent of Homeworld sent these flask robonoids to locate the Earth's Galaxy Warp," said Peridot in a rush, her thoughts scarcely ahead of her own words. "They may be monitoring our warp usage already if they've been able to bypass my own locks on the system. But if we permit the robonoid to warp there, it'll show its warp identification rather than our own, allowing us to interlope there and possibly catch them unawares."

Bismuth stared at Peridot for a second, the robonoid squirming in her grip. "You want to piggyback on this little gal's warp and ambush them?"

“I want nothing of the sort, but this is hardly a situation that permits inaction,” huffed the gem, vision spheres still locked on the struggling, spherical servitor.

Bismuth smirked, hands going to her hips, the captive robonoid along for the ride. “That sounds like someone who’s not ready to lie down and let those upper crusts-”

“Bismuth!” interrupted Peridot loudly. “This is neither the time nor place for your admonitions!”

The Era-1 engineer gave an apologetic head nod --even if her demeanor looked far less contrite-- and jogged to the warp pad.

“Let’s do it, Green.”

As Peridot herself stepped onto the pad, Bismuth gently lowered the robonoid down. The thing wriggled free and dropped the last six inches to the warp pad’s surface, eager to fulfill its directive. A beam of light engulfed the three and then they were gone.

* * *

There was a chime and then the trio appeared on a giant matte blue platform surrounded by crystalline pylons. This Galaxy Warp was smaller than was standard, Peridot noted, containing only a pair of terrestrial pads and the larger, raised pad for interstellar travel.

According to stories from Citrine, Jasper, and Lapis, the Earth’s original Galaxy Warp had changed hands between Homeworld and Rebellion several times before Citrine, seeing it as more risk than prize, had Lapis utterly destroy it.

Decisive solutions were Citrine’s modus operandi, after all.

This was a hastily built alternative, assembled during the final days of the war: a second, smaller Galaxy Warp used, according to reports, to hasten Homeworld’s evacuation from the planet.

In decades past Lapis had taken to applying what were dubbed ‘bumper stickers’ to the sides of the interstellar warp pad, hundreds of different vehicular decorations advertising scores of destinations. Lapis made it a point of pride to acquire new ones to place here as she came across them in her lackadaisical jaunts across the planet.

But what should have been a sundered heap of crystal festooned with sticker-based graffiti was instead a largely intact platform crawling with scores of robonoids. Several robonoids were removing stickers, only a handful remaining adhered to the pad’s exterior, while the other automatons were administering a sealant which allowed regrowth of broken or absent crystal.

The cracked robonoid stepped briskly off the terrestrial pad, hustling to join the rest of its troupe in effecting repairs. Peridot was just about to attempt to stop the restoration effort when an alert appeared across the display built into her glasses: incoming, interstellar warp.

The chime of a warp pad in use began to ring.

Bismuth, quick on her feet, wrapped a thick arm around Peridot’s waist and lunged backward, leaping over the side near one of the towering pylons. Her free hand shifting into a pick-like ice axe, she struck the platform’s side, arresting their fall. They dangled over space, each struggling to find a way to peer unobtrusively over the lip of the Galaxy Warp.

The robonoids scattered, vacating the pad’s surface. Then there was a great beam extending skyward and a louder, deeper chime than you’d hear from a terrestrial warp. Then silence and-

An Era-1 Novaculite stood on the pad beside an Era-2 Peridot, the latter looking around in wonderment. The former only scowled, elbowing past the rapt technician so she could descend down and around the pad.

There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a whisper that was loud in Peridot’s ear. “Nova?! And she’s wearing Pink Diamond’s colors! Oh, I’m going to have to get _creative_ poofing her.” A beat passed and then she heard, “And who’s that Peridot?”

Peridot, who had been gawking with naked avarice, openly coveting the gem’s pristine limb enhancers, shook her head slightly and said in a slightly annoyed whisper, “Not all Peridots know each other, Bismuth.”

A little ways distant the mottled Peridot said in a chipper voice, “It’s quite pretty here.”

The Novaculite, who had brusquely kicked some of the robonoids aside and was attempting to access the warp pad control panel, gave a sour grunt, pausing long enough to shake her head at some bitter irony clear only to her.

A moment later she ripped a bumper sticker off the side of the warp pad and stuck it dismissively to a nearby robonoid, muttering something uncharitable about humans.

The other Peridot seemed unconcerned by the lacking response. Noticing the gauzy cover to her uniform swaying, she remarked, “There is a… disturbance in the atmosphere.” Her attention then drifted up to the clouds overhead.

The Novaculite popped her head up from her work, eyes tracking the area warily.

Bismuth and Peridot shrank back a little deeper into cover.

“What, like some kind of harmful gas?” said the Novaculite, still looking uneasily about.

“No. Uncontrolled air currents. They can’t be a localized phenomenon if those large collections of water vapor are any reference.”

The Novaculite followed the Peridot’s gaze upward then turned back to the mottled gem. “You mean wind? And clouds?”

The Peridot --and Peridot was the one to draw a sharp intake of breath this time-- detached one of her limb enhancers and allowed her bare form to feel the breeze. She smiled. “Ah, yes. I’ve read about them in reports but I’ve never-”

The Novaculite shook her head angrily and interrupted. “Take the tour some other time, half-gem. I’ve got work to do, you’ve got a report to make, and if we’re not back quick then my supervisor will grind my stone into glitter.”

To Peridot’s profound relief, the other Peridot replaced her limb enhancer, called up a hologram, and said in a bright if nasally voice, “Log date three-one-two. This is Peridot Facet-2B2Y Cut-5XG performing Earth hub maintenance check, assisted by Novaculite Facet-”

There was a sharp clearing of a throat below.

The Peridot rolled her eyes and began again, “Assisted by a Novaculite of the former Pink Diamond’s court.” She paused again, face lit up by a minor epiphany, then said to the gem below, “Ah, I see. Your disagreeable attitude is because of how intrinsically this failed colony is associated with your shattered Diamond.”

Another bitter head shake followed by, “Sure, let’s go with that. Now, get back to work so I can get off this rock. Someone janked this warp network up big time: there’s all kinds of weird protocols and locks in place and whoever did this was either a genius-”

Peridot preened slightly.

“-or an idiot.”

Peridot scowled.

“It chips my stone just being here so hurry up,” finished the gruff warp pad technician.

Bismuth looked to Peridot, motioning with her eyes at the pair. Peridot shook her head. Despite suddenly feeling eager to offer a rebuttal of her warp network skills via super-heated plasma, she was not yet willing to break cover, curious to hear more about the other Peridot’s mission.

The mottled Peridot continued her report. “Warp repair a success. All seventy-nine flask robonoids deployed and accounted for.” With a broadcast, the robonoids ceased their labors and began to march up onto the warp pad. Nodding as the troupe filed orderly past, she said, “Preparing to locate and manually reactivate-” She gasped as the cracked robonoid from before hobbled up the steps to her, a bumper sticker clinging to its chassis.

Peridot, from hiding, had to bite back a noise of frustration. _Manually reactivate what?!_

The Peridot picked up the robonoid daintily, turning it this way and that while her floating fingers fussed over it. “You poor thing. Your exterior has been cracked! You join the others and I’ll fix you as soon as we’re back at the station.” She set the robonoid down gently and nudged it toward the center of the pad.

Novaculite looked at something on the control panel and raised her head. “Cracked?”

Rather than answer the question, the Peridot puzzled over the bumper sticker she’d removed from the damaged robonoid. “What is a ‘Mystery Shack’ and why is this report stating I should go there?”

“Hey!” barked Novaculite, the Peridot jolting in surprise. “The log shows that robonoid warped here along with a combined mass bigger than both of us. And it’s cracked.” She was already moving swiftly for the warp pad, one hand at the gemstone hidden behind her hair. “This site is compromised. We’re getting out of here.” The hand came free and she was holding a hard light bow, arrow nocked.

Peridot realized that Bismuth had been bracing to lunge out of cover but the gem’s weapon made her pause. “We’ll destroy the pad after they depart,” hiss-whispered Peridot, agreeing with the smith’s prudence.

“Leave? But I haven’t-” objected the other Peridot.

“Can it,” growled the pink court Quartz, “or I’ll bring you back myself. In a bubble.”

The Peridot had to snatch up the cracked robonoid so the Novaculite didn’t crush it stepping onto the pad. Then the entire group vanished in a beam of light and was gone.

A little clumsily but with Bismuth’s assistance, Peridot scrambled up onto the platform, the smith only a second behind.

Peridot then half-leaned, half-collapsed against the pylon, tethered fingers gripping her hair as the reality of this hit her like a charging Quartz. “Homeworld is coming back! Definitively! We can’t do this!” She covered her vision spheres with her free hand-equivalent. “I can’t see Connie-”

There was the sound of a loud grunt followed by an impact and the shattering of crystal. While Peridot allowed herself to succumb to the even-more-justified-than-before panic, the sound of Bismuth’s demolition rang through her ears like a preview of the doom Homeworld would be visiting on them.

A crater where Beach City used to remain, not even the most robust components of the temple still intact. A planet stripped of life as the Kindergartens were reactivated and more created still. A vast, sterile land teeming with gems, fragments of yellow, green, blue, and orange ground under the feet of innumerable soldiers and laborers as-

A heavy hand figuratively and literally pulled Peridot out from her panicked state and upright.

Through blurred vision Peridot could make out a thoroughly ruined interstellar warp pad. Bismuth was looking directly at her, eyes concerned but the line of her mouth was resolute.

“We have nothing that can challenge them, Bismuth,” said Peridot in a wavering voice.

Bismuth shrugged. “Then it sounds like we should find something that can.”

“What? But-”

The Era-1 smith gently but firmly propelled Peridot toward one of the intact terrestrial warps. “Don’t worry, Green. I think I know a place. How about you let Jaz and Blue know where to meet us?”

Too bewildered to be properly afraid, Peridot asked, “And where precisely would that be?”

They stepped onto the pad and Bismuth’s grip on her shoulder tightened marginally. “Didn’t you hear? I was poofed there fighting for the rebellion.”

Peridot blinked at the horizon. “Poofed fighting for-” Then her eyes went wide as the memory slid into focus. She looked up at Bismuth with a shocked expression. “You want to plunder the Ziggurat?!”

Bismuth smiled. The warp stream engulfing them was her answer.

* * *

It had been a long, frustrating, difficult day scouring Beach City. Connie noted that even Steven and her dad, who weren’t the ones who’d had to look at half of Beach City’s mental vistas, were running on fumes.

But that was over.

Connie stood in front of her quarry, see-through and certain. She signed as much to the others.

Beside her, Steven held up the drawing of a yellow, black, and pink fractal. “This is you.”

Across from them Wolf licked his chops and nodded his head. He then padded forward and tried to nuzzle Connie’s hand but went right through the ghostly extremity. With a snort, he leaned forward and booped Connie’s see-through gemstone, the girl being shoved back a step.

Puzzled, Steven reached forward and poked the stone with his finger and went right through. A beat later and Connie was tangible once more, Steven’s hand moved back as if he’d been lightly pushed aside.

Everyone gawked at Wolf for a long second.

Wolf panted and stared back as if confused why Connie wasn’t now scratching his ears.

“Mom left me a clue, a clue I could only see if I had this power, and only I could solve if I’d found you,” intoned Connie. “This is about me, isn’t it?”

Ears flicking slightly, Wolf shook his head in negation.

Connie looked taken aback but Doug stepped in, asking, “Is it about Citrine?”

Wolf nodded then lowered himself. It was what he did to let passengers onto his back, but in the moment it looked more like he was bowing.

Connie’s eyes went wide once more but then her expression became serious. Shouldering her pack from where it’d dropped through immaterial shoulders she said, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art for this chapter was drawn by MjStudioArts and BurdenKing. Also, I can't help but notice the living island photo bombed us again. That's the second time it's done that, you know.
> 
> Finishing this last bit of Ep30 took longer than expected, mainly because work caught me off guard as it ramped up in a big way following the holiday lull. Still, I'm glad to get to finish this for you all, both to close out the episode and share all this wonderful art, in-chapter and post-chapter.
> 
> To start off with we have Novaculite making her exit from the Omake Collection and entering the main fic. Who doesn't love a surly serial traitor? If you're counting, she's jumped ship four times so far. While she was wearing her white court uniform in _Escape from Homeworld_ , here we see her in this new pink number. Check out these models MJ and BurdenKing did, including one before MJ had the wonderful idea to add a crack to the Pink Diamond section:  
>   
> 
> 
> Next we have Peridot Facet-2B2Y Cut-5XG, or P2 as we call her internally. The first is a recent model MJ drew. The following is a model of hers we've been sitting on since March of 2017.  
>   
> 
> 
> Like usual we'll be taking a week off between episodes, so you can expect some omake content to go up this Wednesday. However, join us Wednesday, January 30th for the start of **Episode 31: Knowledge and Power**
>
>>   
>   
> Hoping to arm themselves for Homeworld's return, Bismuth is leading Peridot, Jasper, and Lapis on a mission to the Ziggurat, Homeworld's unbroken fortress on Earth. Meanwhile, Wolf is taking Connie, Steven, and Doug to a secret location of Citrine's. What will the Crystal Gems face and what will the Destiny Partners uncover?
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you have a Connie Swap story burning in your soul that you want to see in our official, curated Omake collection, drop us a comment either in the Omake fic or here in the main fic and we'll get in touch.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping track of all the updates to Connie Swap can get a little difficult, can't it? It doesn't have to be! If you go to the [Connie Swap Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/630527) page and click the " **Subscribe** " button then you will receive an email alert every time a new episode is posted or a new chapter is added to _ANY_ fic in Connie Swap.
> 
> One button. All the updates.


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